This time I can't say "My daughter made me do it". She just did it. She gave me a blogspot.

There are certainly many stories and memories of time we all spent together. Like the time my young son wanted to help me make brownies. Somehow, the flour, eggs, etc. ended up on the floor. Yes, we had to clean it up. But we started over and enjoyed the brownies. Now when I visit my children in their own homes, they cook for me. Or I cook for them. Or we all cook together.

Sometimes the adventures of today transcend the homes. My daughter told me how she had decided to put the bouillon in a bottle. She didn't add a label, so her husband, thinking it was brown sugar, added bouillon to the peach cobbler he was making. I thought it was a good idea to put my brown sugar in a bottle, and I did. But the very next thing I did was give it a label.